


Witch's Garden

by Nikki_Writes



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Building Friendships, Character Development, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Major Original Character(s), OC Ships, Original Character-centric, Slow Burn, The good shit, Witch OC - Freeform, a touch of angst here and there, havin a good time, just kinda added a bunch of characters to the tags, lots of fluff, lots of nature talk, mostly a feel-good kind of story if youre into that, no i'm not caught up with the anime but i'm still doin this, no not everyone gets along, oc x canon ships, they'll be here eventually fret not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:22:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikki_Writes/pseuds/Nikki_Writes
Summary: The simple life of a young witch living deep in the woods bordering a lovely valley.  Or, it was simple.  Now that she's made friends her life is steadily growing more and more exciting, business is better, and she's finally getting over all that social awkwardness that came with being mostly isolated in the thick of the woods.--Disclaimer: Not all OCs are mine, but I have been given permission by the creators to use them.Maev, her family, Middy, and Edik are mine as is this story.Alucard and Fishin belong to friends.





	1. Cabin in the Forest

            Not everyone who lives deep in the woods has their mind set on solitude.  Sometimes, living this way is expected of you; especially if you happen to be a witch.  There is a lot of gardening that goes into witchcraft, plants that shouldn’t be tampered with by unknowing folk, so living far away from them is safer.  Some towns also don’t take well to witches, so taking to the thickest part of the wood is your only chance of living peacefully – for even in towns where the majority don’t like you, some may still need you.  Either way, it’s a lonely life.

            Witch cabins are usually very hard to come across unless you actively seek them out.  Most are well hidden by the greenery covering their roofs and walls which helps them blend in with the land surrounding them.  Their chimneys, which are almost always smoking, will usually give them away.

            It is the steady stream of smoke that usually draws travelers to the cabin of a small witch; her front garden helping to draw them in.  it’s full of strange looking plants the likes of which most have never seen before.  One such well-seasoned traveler does recognize them, though.  The young Snufkin dressed in green actually notices these well-arranged plants before he notices the wooden cabin with its tall, very steep roof decorated in fresh green moss that they’re planted in front of.  Noticing the cabin brings the realization that the highly poisonous plants and fungi are there intentionally.  But why?

            “These plants are no good for eating at all.”  He mutters to himself, kneeling down to get a good look at a patch of wolfsbane, being very careful not to touch it.

            “Well, they’re not for eating at all.”  The sudden voice startles the traveler, as he turns to look at the source: a young woman, dressed in all black, a tall black hat much like his own green one sits atop her head.  In her hands is a basket about to spill over with nonpoisonous mushrooms.  “They’re for potions and spells, but I suppose not everyone would know that.”

            “What brings you to my cabin?  Do you seek my business?”  Though her voice is kind, her eyes are intense and wide.  The dark shadow cast by the wide brim of her hat does not help.

            The traveler simply shakes his head, he’s rather unsure of exactly what kind of business she means.  “I was simply passing through when I noticed your peculiar garden.  I recognized a few of the plants and got to wondering what purpose a garden as toxic as this could serve, but you’ve already answered that question.”

            “How very strange.”  Her statement has the green-clad traveler cocking his head in mild confusion.  Curiosity about a garden like this is strange?  “Most don’t come here unless they need something from me.”  At this, the traveler starts to apologize for disturbing her home, but she quickly waves it off with a smile that would be nice were it not for her gaze still being so intense.  It’s almost as though she can see right through him.  “It’s not bothersome at all, it gets very lonely all the way out here.  It’s reassuring to know people can find my home without intentionally seeking me out.  Though, it just strengthens my beliefs that they avoid it on purpose.”

            She shakes her head, her long braid of red hair swinging behind her at the action.  “Anyway, my name is Maev, I am the witch of this neck of the woods.”

            “I’m Snufkin.”  The visitor replies pleasantly.

            A loud, low croak comes from Maev’s bag.  With a laugh, Maev puts down her basket of mushrooms to dig through the bag slung across her chest.  From it, she pulls out a very large frog, easily too much for her two hands to contain.  Its legs dangle from her hold and its eyes bore into Snufkin’s.

            “This is Barnabus.  He’s my familiar.”  The enthusiastic fondness she says this with takes away from the intense air her presence creates and brings a small smile to Snufkin’s face.

            “What a lovely creature.”  He comments, which causes Maev’s smile to grow wider.

            “Ya hear that, Barnabus?”  She asks the large bullfrog.  “You _are_ a lovely creature.”  With that, she places a small kiss atop the amphibian’s head and puts him on the ground.  Once in the grass, Barnabus takes off hopping towards a small lake nearby.

            “Well, I do need to be off, I’ve some friends expecting me.  Do you mind if I take a few of these with me?”  Snufkin asks, plucking a nightshade berry from its bush.

            Maev pauses, her smile vanishes momentarily.  “As I do not know what you wish to do with them, I cannot condone it.  So, no.  everything here is incredibly dangerous.  I can’t say I want to risk them being spread anywhere else.”  A small pout crosses the Snufkin’s face as he drops the berry.  “But you are, of course, always welcome to come by.  It’s awfully quiet around here, company is rare but welcomed.”

            The smile returned to his face briefly as he tips his hat in a silent farewell.  He’s not sure if he will come back.  The young witch is very strange, doesn’t seem to know much about conversing with others.  All the same, she seems to have everyone’s best interests in mind, so she surely can’t be so bad.

            Maev, on the other hand, is certain he won’t actually come back.  After all, nobody ever visits her cabin twice.


	2. Tea?

            As the days pass, work comes and goes.  Maev spends most of her days tending to her gardens, looking after Barnabus, and baking.  Every day that doesn’t have work is like this.  A single customer came by earlier in the morning seeking something to dispel negativity in their home, and she’s more than happy to provide.  It’s a quick enough potion to brew, but they insist on coming back for it the next day rather than wait in her cabin for it.

            That was far earlier in the day.  Having decided to take her time with it, Maev picks her herbs extra carefully for the sprayable potion.  One like this will last the customer a while, only needing to be sprayed around the room a bit when the user feels necessary.  It’s a simple enough concoction.  While the herbs steep, she puts on some tea – mint, seeing as she’s already had to pick some today.

            She’s grinding together the dried herbs, leaves, and fresh mint for the tea together when she hears something.  Something she never hears all the way out here.  It’s very faint, but she’s sure she hears music.  How long it’s been since she’s heard any music.

            Walking quickly, she opens a window facing the lake at the front of her cabin.  Sure enough, sitting at the edge of it is the Snufkin that found her garden none too long ago.  He plays his harmonica, eyes closed.  It’s a sweet melody, maybe a little sad.  The sound is very unique, unlike any she’s heard before – her family only plays the lyre.  It’s a lovely sound.  She leaves the window open to hear it better as she finishes up the small cleansing potion and tea.

            While the herbs continue to steep in the water for the potion and the tea mixture steeps in the teapot, she digs around in her cabinets for what’s left of some of her snacks.  She’s got some almond cookies around somewhere, she knows she does.  Once they’re found, she arranges them neatly on a plate.  She brings down a couple of teacups, too.  Maybe he will join her for tea…

            With some time still until the tea is done steeping, she decides to address him.  Not without donning her hat of course.  In the comfort of her own home, she leaves it on a wrack near the door.  Her family always insisted she wears it when out, they’ve stressed this for as long as she can remember.  In some ways, to her at least, it always felt as though they were warning others around them of what they are, to keep away if they don’t want to associate with witches.  She supposes now that that was probably for the better.

            She grabs her hat off the wrack on the way to the window, adjusting it on her head before leaning out a bit with a smile.

            “That’s a lovely tune.”  She says, a smile in her voice as well as on her face – the former being much more pleasant.  The visitor gives a smile and thanks.  “I’ve got tea on, would you like some?”

            “I usually prefer coffee, but tea sounds nice.  Thank you.”

            With another smile, Maev turns to grab the essentials for tea with visitors and puts them on a tray.  Before she goes out, she funnels the potion into a small bottle with a spray lid.  She can tie a ribbon and write the instructions for the buyer later.

            Adjusting her hat and grabbing up the tray, she toes open the door to go outside.  Once out, she sets the tray down on the bare porch.  She never once thought to put a table or any sort of furniture out here, she’s never had a use for it.  She wishes she did now.  How comfortable can it be to drink tea sitting on a hard, wooden porch overlooking a poisonous garden?  It’s her normal, but how does her guest feel about it?

            Snufkin comes up the few stairs to take a seat on the other side of the tea tray.  He asks about the tea and she explains the herbs in it, the strongest being fresh mint leaves.  “I had a potion order that required mint today, so I thought I would make some tea with it, too.  It’s one of my favorites.”  She says, pouring her guest a cup before herself as is polite.

            He thanks her before taking a careful sip of the hot drink.  “Coffee is my usual drink of choice, but this is very good.

            Maev beams, thanking him.  “Is coffee something people drink, though?  I’ve only ever used coffee beans as a pest deterrent.”  She mutters wonderingly.

            “A pest deterrent?”  Snufkin asks, turning to her.

            She nods.  “By putting the coffee beans in some water and spraying my plants with it, it wards off most bugs and dangerous pests.  Bumblebees love caffeine, though, so there are always plenty of those clumsy little friends around.”

            The Snufkin hums in contemplation.  Neither of them has heard of the other’s uses of coffee.  Maev eats one of the dry almond cookies, quickly following it with a sip of tea.  She can’t help but think that raspberry tea would have been a better match with the snack.

            She watches as the guest takes a cookie for himself, and she can’t help but wonder what kind of magic he does.  She didn’t immediately suspect him a witch being dressed in such a color, but she supposes some witch families don different colors other than black.  He did mention when they met that he’s a traveler, maybe he wears a different color to not raise suspicion on his many travels.  Or maybe he does some kind of nature magic; it’s not uncommon for nature witches to wear more earthy colors.  All Maev is completely certain of is that no nonmagic folk have ever stopped by her cabin more than once, especially not in the same month.

            “I didn’t think you would actually come back.”  She says, gazing out over her garden.

            “Why not?”  He keeps his eyes on his teacup.

            “I mentioned before, but nobody ever comes here more than once if it’s not business related.  Much less have tea with me.”  She turns her shadowed gaze to Snufkin, smiling as she seems to always do.

            “It’s quiet here.  It’s rather nice.”

            That conversation dies immediately after he says that.  Maev notices Barnabus making his way up the stairs to take a seat next to their guest.  “Barnabus seems to have taken quite a liking to you.”

            “Is that uncommon?”

            “We wouldn’t know.  Most people are scared of him because of how big he is.”  The bullfrog appears even larger when he sits himself between the guest and the tray, looking like a lump of green algae with eyes.

            Snufkin places his near-empty teacup on the saucer in his hand, but he doesn’t reach for a cookie this time.  “You’re quite talkative, aren’t you?”  Something about the way he says it tells Maev this is not a good thing in his book.

            “I’ve never had somebody to listen before.”

            That answer shouldn’t have caught him as off guard as it did.  It’s been mentioned several times now that nobody sticks around her cabin much, if at all.  The best conversationalist she has is Barnabus, and while he is a wonderful listener, a talker he is not.  He had intended to leave by now, but something tells him he shouldn’t just yet.

            “Well, I’m not really one for prolonged conversation, and I’m sure we have very different interests,” it sounds to Maev that he’s not interested in staying much longer, so she’s surprised when he holds out his teacup for more, “but I do believe I can stay for another cup of tea.”

            Another wide smile spreads across the young witch’s face.  She quickly puts down her cup to pour him some more.


	3. A Simple Witch's Simple Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Maev

            Rising with the sun isn’t for everyone, especially not witches who stay up long into the early hours of the morning with their work.  Maev, however, almost never has to stay up very late and there is usually not much work to be done.  So, waking and starting her day when the sun first starts to rise is not an issue for her at all.  The real problem she has is finding things to fill the many hours of the day with.

            She doesn’t often bother with cooking breakfast, opting for a quick cup of tea accompanied by a slice of bread and jam as her first meal of the day.  Her choice of tea for this morning is dandelion, the bitterness of which mixes well with the sweetness of the strawberry jam.  After cleaning it up, she dons her hat, dress, and boot to head out into the garden.

            Once outside, she pulls on some gardening gloves and grabs a basket.  A handkerchief is tied around her neck to pull over her face when needed.  One must be very careful in a garden such as hers.  Many of the flowers, no matter how beautiful and colorful they may be, are very dangerous.

            Pulling the kerchief over her mouth and nose, she grabs a small pair of clippers out of her basket to snip off some blooms of wolfsbane.  She drops them in a jar, closes it, and backs away from the patch before removing the cloth from her face.  She goes on collecting blooms, leaves, and berries from her garden, sorting them into various jars and pouches.  Some of these jars are airtight to avoid the scent of the plants which could kill you with just a small whiff.  Others are open to dry leaves and roots.  A few pouches are full of dangerous berries.

            What a mess it would be if anybody entered this garden without her say so.  All the same, she has small handmade signs to warn those of the dangers of her garden, some plants are specifically labeled with do not smell signs, do not pick signs.  All of which also say why you shouldn’t – she was sure to be specific as she’s heard of sign thieves in the valley; surely they wouldn’t take them if they were to protect others from certain death.  Not everything in the garden is dangerous, of course.  Some of the plants and fungi are completely harmless and just look dangerous and disgusting.  She doesn’t have to worry about them too much, though.  She usually has to fuss over the poisonous ones and make sure they don’t get overgrown and spread where they shouldn’t.

            Extracting what she needs from the plants is usually what causes her the most trouble.  Withdrawal of pollen, nectar, and seeds is a tedious task, but it fills her seemingly never-ending days.  She won’t be finished until lunch.

            Some of the flowers are ground into powder, others of the nonpoisonous variety are dried and stored for teas.  Everything gets put into properly labeled containers and stored in their rightful cabinets.  The ones nearest the hearth and cauldron are where she stores her potion ingredients.  The ones in the kitchen are all edible.

            Even having worn gloves the whole time she worked with the plants, she is sure to wash well before preparing lunch.  She refuses to take any risks.

            She fixes herself a sandwich for lunch and decides to eat it out next to the lake.  Once she sits herself near the water, Barnabus emerges from the shallows.  The large bullfrog crawls up to sit next to her.  He catches his own lunch as she eats hers.  She talks about this and that regarding the garden with her familiar.  He doesn’t say much to her, but she appreciates his little bits of feedback.

            Once her sandwich is gone, she picks up the giant of a frog and sets him in her lap.  “The wolfsbane is starting to get out of control, Barnabus.  I’m afraid I may have to dispose of a few of the plants.  We can’t let them spread too far, they’re very poisonous.”

            Barnabus moves a front foot to land on Maev’s fingers, giving a low croak.  She smiles at this, “You’re right.  Things will be fine.”

            With Barnabus now hopping at her side, Maev goes to tend to her second garden behind her cabin.  This is where all of her vegetables grow.  Tomatoes, corn, lettuce, plenty of fresh vegetables to cook her dinners with.  The only plant she would never grow in her garden is cabbage.  _Never_ cabbage.

            After picking the ripe veggies and storing them, she takes to cleaning her home.  Dust and dirt accumulate very fast in the woods.  Windows and door are open to air the small home out, and she half hopes to hear passing music again.  All that comes in are the songs of birds.  She continues sweeping the dirt out the door.

            The rest of the day is slow and mostly void of anything to do.  She took care of her most time-consuming chores such as sewing yesterday, there’s nothing more to mend.  All that’s left to do is cook dinner and clean it up.

            After dinner, she sits on her bed wondering what she can do to pass the final hours before she needs to sleep.  Retiring to bed early doesn’t sound good, she’s not tired yet.  She could pick her lyre back up, but she’s not in the mood.  With a sigh, she decides to go for a walk.

            The woods are dark now that the sun has set.  She can’t see far, but she’s taken enough walks before to have an idea of where she’s going.

            She’s not in the dark for long, though.  After a short while, a green glow catches her eye.  A small mushroom glows in the night.  Maev’s eyes widen.  She takes several steps closer which reveals more!  She simply has to follow them!

            The young witch trots along the path revealed by the mushrooms’ glow, pale greens and yellows lighting her way to a destination yet unknown.  Occasionally she catches a glimpse of a light blue, but they are far and few.  She jumps and twirls, dancing her way down the path until she reaches the end, where ever that may be.  Oh, what an adventure she’s having!  She hasn’t had one in so long and it’s so very refreshing.

            The path comes to an end and opens up into a small clearing.  The glowing fungi are scattered about the grass and trees.  The trees are also decorated with some gently glowing moss.  Fireflies blink amongst themselves, barely disturbed by the young woman dancing her way into their field.  She doesn’t stop until she slips on the damp ground and falls on her back in the grass.  She stares up at the cloudless night sky and smiles.  She thinks quietly for once – her thoughts are usually quite loud.  Her smile grows as her eyes close.  It’s been years since she’s slept under the stars.

            What an end to the night.


	4. A Little Visitor

            Waking up in the field is the first new start to her daily routine that Maev’s had in a long time.  What a way to break the monotony!  Of course, it’s not nearly as spectacular as falling asleep there had been.  Now that the sun is up, the glow of the vegetation is gone and the fireflies have retreated for the day to rest for another night of dancing.  She’s soaked with morning dew which enhances the slight morning chill, causing a shiver to run up through her.  Not wanting to trudge her way back through the forest, she summons her broom to her and flies back to her cabin.

            She’s mostly dry by the time she arrives but still changes into another, identical black dress.  Back to the monotony.  She wishes she could have another color in her wardrobe, but according to family tradition, she cannot.

            She didn’t rise with the sun this morning, so she’s starting her day rather late.  All the same, she takes her time with breakfast, her nighttime adventure left her surprisingly hungry and she eats three slices of bread with her morning tea – hibiscus this time around.  She runs her chore list through her head but finds there’s not much to do.  She needs to tend to her gardens every day, and she has some tidying up to do.  But what after that?

            After she cleans up breakfast, she dons her gardening gear, grabs up her basket of tools and jars, and makes her way into the garden.  Usually tending to her garden is a calm and peaceful task, but today has other plans.  While she’s collecting clippings from her stalks of wolfsbane, she sees something out of the corner of her eye.  A small creature rushing into a patch of bulbous mushrooms.

            Curious, Maev approached the patch.  She pokes and prods at a few of them to see what could have crawled in, only for it to rush into another patch nearby in a red blur.  It’s a small creature on two legs; a goblin or gremlin perhaps.

            Panic settles in and Maev starts to chase it about.  If it runs into the wrong bush it could die quite horribly, and she doesn’t want that.

            “Get back here, little creature.”  She mutters as she frantically searches through the bushes of poisonous berries.  Hopefully the little gremlin doesn’t eat any of them.  She crawls along the plants, careful not to stir some of them.  It has to be here somewhere.

            “What are you doing?”  a familiar voice inquires.

            Turning, Maev sees Snufkin leaning against the fence and watching her in confusion.  She quickly stands, pulling her mask from over her nose and mouth.  “Some sort of gremlin has made its way into the garden.  I’m scared it may try to eat or tear up the plants.”  Her tone is urgent, Snufkin notices.  She can’t stand the thought of her garden hurting something.  Though everything in her garden is potentially lethal under the right circumstances, she uses it only to help.

            The spot of red making its way up the nightshade bush behind Maev doesn’t escape his notice either.

            “I am _not_ a gremlin!”  the creature Maev was searching for says, head popping out of the leaves.

            Maev leaps forward, her voice rising in pitch and volume.  “It speaks!” she shrieks, quickly turning around when she hears the small creature cackling at her.  She frowns.

            “Little My, I know being mischievous is in your nature, but that’s really no way to introduce yourself,” Snufkin says as he walks into the garden, though he can’t mask the mild amusement in his voice.  “What brings you all the way out her anyhow?  Were you tailing me again?”

            “No, I was mushroom hunting and followed a trail of them here.  There are loads of them.”  The small creature, Little My as Snufkin called her, hops out of the deadly nightshade bush.  Maev is now able to get a good look at her.  She’s so incredibly small, surely there will be no hard feelings for her mistaking the visitor for a gremlin.  She also has a tight bun of red hair atop her head and a bright red dress.

            “Those mushrooms are incredibly poisonous, though…” Maev interjects, but her concerns are waved off by Snufkin.

            “She loves to pick the poisonous ones to give the others a scare.  A strange hobby of hers.”

            “Oh!”  Maev exclaims, a smile coming across her face.  “A fellow poisonous plant enthusiast, are we?”

            Little My first remarks – rather rudely – that Maev’s smile is creepy.  She doesn’t give the witch time to think on it, though, as she continues with the subject at hand.  “But, yes.  The poisonous mushrooms especially.  They’re surprisingly easy to find, but you have some here I’ve never seen before.”

            As long as the little one isn’t feeding them to anybody, Maev doesn’t see the harm in having a collecting hobby.  She has a large variety in her garden alone, some of which are not commonly found in these woods.  It makes sense they would draw her in.

            “Well… I suppose if you ever need help identifying them you can always come to me.  I’m quite the expert on poisonous plants and fungi.  I just ask that you’re careful around the garden and pay close mind to the signs.  One wrong move and you could die.”  Little My doesn’t flinch at Maev’s warning and rather asks where the safest of the plants are.  The little witch is more than happy to point her in the direction of the mushrooms that won’t kill her with a spray of spores.

            “She’s an interesting one.”  Maev remarks as the little Mymble dives in to search through the fungi.  As she’s searching about, Maev gets back to trimming some of her plants while Snufkin leans back against the fence watching the two of them work.  He plays a gentle tune on his mouth organ to fill some of the silence.

            Maev smiles to herself. The atmosphere is much better like this.  With others nearby, music in the air…  There aren’t nearly as many blooms and berries to collect today, so her work is done quickly.  As soon as she finishes, she puts her basket inside the house and washes her hands.

            “What brings you down this way today, Snufkin?”  the young witch asks as she leans against the fence next to him.

            He stops playing his harmonica and looks up at her.  “Oh, I just thought I’d stop by.  See what you and Barnabus are up to.”

            Maev smiles, glancing over at the lake in her yard.  Barnabus won’t be out an about for another few hours.  “Oh, we don’t get up to much, really.  I’ve got a series of chores I tend to every day, but they’re all practically done now.

            Little My chines in, her head popping out of a bunch of mushrooms as she calls out to the green-clad Mumrik.  “Is Maev a friend of yours?”  Snufkin confirms that she is, which brings an even bigger smile to Maev’s face.  “Well, weren’t you ever going to introduce her to the rest of us?”

            “I hadn’t really thought about it.  This is only the third time I’ve talked to her myself.”

            As this exchange occurs, Maev wonders who the others might be.  Are they really considering introducing her to their other friends?  She tilts her head slightly in confusion.

            Snufkin turns his attention to the girl beside him, “I suppose we will have to introduce you to our other friends soon.  They usually like to make new friends.  You’ll have all kinds of people to talk to then, and it won’t be so quiet and lonely out here once they figure out how to get to your cabin.”  Little My butts in to mention that one of their friends – a real coward and loud-mouth she says – probably won’t be so thrilled to meet a witch.  She says Maev shouldn’t let him get to her, though, because everyone else will welcome her with open arms.

            Maev’s heart swells a bit.  Things are already less lonely these days, but she feels like her life is about to get a lot more exciting very soon.


	5. Adventure

            The weather is fare and the skies are clear; fine conditions for flying and even more perfect for seeking others on the ground.  Maev stands on the handle of her broom as it flies over the trees of the woods bordering the valley.  Snufkin had said to look for a tall blue house near the river, just across a small bridge.  He promised to be waiting at that small bridge with Little My and their other friends she’s supposed to be meeting.

            First, she needs to get away from the woods.  It takes a mere shift of her stance to turn her broom slightly to the right to fly towards the river.  The flowing water is peaceful, making quiet noise to accompany the songs of the birds.  It’s all less audible to Maev with the wind rushing past her ears.  How she manages to keep her hat on while she flies so fast is unknown.

            Snufkin was right about the house being hard to miss.  It’s a great tall, cylindrical house painted a lovely shade of blue.  Looking down, Maev sees the bridge, and standing on it is Snufkin and three unfamiliar faces.  Two of the strangers are soft and white, very similar to one another in appearance; the third is a taller creature with brown fur.  She’s too high up to see if Little My is there, but she’s sure she is.

            Maev begins her descent until her broom hovers just above the grass on the side of the bridge opposite the tall house and a short distance away from the others.  She’s not being shy, simply cautious.  It’s not every day a witch lands in your front yard.

            A cautious approach seemed to be the right approach, as the three new faces seem to be rather shocked at the young witch’s entrance.  They quickly cross the bridge, but are careful to stay a few steps behind Snufkin.  The taller of the creatures stands behind the two white ones who seem less afraid than their cowering friend.

            Maev steps off of her broom.  The broom then rights itself to hover vertically beside her.  The bristles don’t touch the ground until she grabs the handle, and it lets itself rest.

            “Did a witch curse your broom?”  One of the white creatures asks, the one with the blonde tuft of hair atop her head and a pretty gold anklet.

            Maev cocks her head at this question, a little confused by it.  “Well… I am a witch, but no.  Cursing my broom wouldn’t be very nice.  She gets me around, you know.”

            “What’s a witch doing here?” the brown creature asks in a high-pitched voice which grates on the ears, still cowering behind his pale friends.

            Snufkin moves forward to stand beside Maev, a small smile on his face.  “Because this witch is our new friend.  She has a name, too, you know.  Maev, this is Moomin, Snork Maiden, and Sniff,”  the green-clad Mumrik points to each creature as he introduces them.  Maev nods in greeting, smiling in a way she hopes is less intense than is apparently normal for her – she’s practiced in the bathroom mirror several times since Little My told her her smile was creepy, “and I’m sure you remember Little My.”

            Maev’s eyes brighten once she finally sees her little friend standing on the railing of the bridge.  “Ah, yes!  Our poisonous mushroom enthusiast!  How could I forget?”

            The fact that Maev has already befriended Little My is both a shock and a comfort to Snufkin’s friends.  The little Mymble is a lot to handle and an absolute troublemaker.   This means that Maev is likely a patient and kind person.  Or, quite possibly just a troublemaker as well.  Either way, she will be welcomed with open arms.

            The group had figured that, since a new friend is coming along, they would have a simple adventure.  Just a hike in the Lonely Mountains.  They’ve done it many times on not-too-hot days like this one.  The breeze is cool as it blows inland off the sea, and the long walk is perfect for conversation.

            “Have you ever been in the Lonely Mountains before?”  Moomin asks their new friend as they begin the short walk to the mountains.

            Maev shakes her head, “I rarely ever went far away from my cabin, truthfully.  Never had a need to, so this will be quite an adventure!”  She continues to walk amongst her new acquaintances as they continue to move along.  There are questions tossed about regarding her broom and where she lives, and she is more than happy to answer.  How long has she been in Moomin Valley?  Well, an awfully long time, she supposes.  A good few years, seeing as she first moved in around the age of fifteen to start her shop where she takes orders for herbal potions, teas, and charmed trinkets – though business has always been awfully slow.  If it doesn’t pick up soon, her family may make her go back to live with them again.

            “You were living on your own that young?  Wasn’t it difficult?”  Snork Maiden asks.  Most of them agree that living on your own can be very tough.  They barely survived the time Moominmamma and Moominpappa – Moomin’s parents – went away on an adventure for a day.

            “It’s tradition in my family.  When a witch comes of a certain age, we set off to try to make a living for ourselves.  My family prepared me before hand, teaching me how to cook and garden when I was young.  Taking care of myself and my small cabin is no problem at all.”

            “And Barnabus,”  Snufkin adds, glancing back from his position ahead of the group, “you have to take care of him, too, don’t you?”

            Maev halts immediately, letting go of her broom which continues to stand on its own at her side.  “That’s right!  I almost forgot to introduce everyone to Barnabus.”  The witch goes about opening her shoulder bag and taking out a small cauldron.

            “A pot?  Why would you introduce us to a – “ Sniff is cut off by a deep croak that echoes from within the black cauldron.  He shivers and takes a step back behind Moomin.

            “Barnabus isn’t the cauldron.”  Maev says, a hint of exasperation in her voice as she takes the lid off of the brewer.  Once the top is removed, two golden eyes pop up out of the pot, soon followed by the head of the oversized frog.  “Barnabus is my familiar.”  She lets Barnabus crawl out onto the ground before putting the cauldron away again to pick him up.

            Snork Maiden and Sniff gasp.  They’ve never seen such a large frog before!  He’s about the size of Little My with his legs stretching down from Maev’s grasp.  They don’t doubt that, if he chose to, Barnabus could _eat_ Little My, though it would surely give him a horrible stomachache.

            “He’s gross!”  Little My exclaims, though she smiles as she says it.  Maev isn’t certain if it is meant as an insult or not, and neither is Barnabus.

            “Now stop that, Little My.  Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t mean it.”  Moomin says, reaching out and petting the bullfrog.  He thinks Barnabus is an intriguing creature.

            “Yes, I do!”  Little My continues to shout, climbing up Moomin’s back and perching on his shoulder for the moment to get a better look at the large frog.  The small Mymble and the frog stare each other down the whole time she’s up there.  “I mean everything I say.”

            Maev can’t help but frown a little, looking down at her content-looking companion.  “Well… that’s not very nice.  Barnabus is a wonderful friend, my very best friend.  You’ll have to be his friend, too, if you’re to be mine.  You can’t have one without the other.”

            Little My slides down Moomin’s back, landing easily back on the ground.  “I guess it can’t be helped then.  I’ve never been friends with a frog before.”

            With everyone settling down after the final introduction – though Sniff still refuses to pet the large amphibian – the group starts walking up the trail leading up and through the mountains.  Barnabus is back in his cauldron, safe and content; Maev’s broom is back in her hand.  Whichever way she chooses to look, there is a new friend.  Things are really looking up.


	6. Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About broom rides, witches, and friends.

            Everyone insisted that the view from their usual cliff up on Lonely Mountain was beautiful.  Astounding.  Absolutely breathtaking.  Maev didn’t know if she believed that as they talked while walking up the trail, but she’s pleasantly surprised now.  They were absolutely right.  From the cliff they’re on – hardly very far up the mountain, honestly, but far up enough – she can see so much.  The cliff gives a near perfect birds-eye view of the valley (near perfect because Maev wholly believes a perfect birds-eye view is from directly above something, usually on a broom).  She can see all the homes, and most of the woods, she even points out her cabin’s clearing from way up there!  She stands bravely close to the edge.  With her broom in hand, there’s no fear of the possible fall.

She’s in awe of the landscape, enraptured, and it shows in her voice, “As often as I fly, I’ve never thought to fly this high before.”

“Would you like to try it?”  Moomin suggests, earning a delighted nod from Maev.  Oh, wouldn’t she!

She doesn’t hop on her broom immediately, though.  Instead, she turns to the group with a smile and offers to take them all on rides.  Two can easily fit on her broom, and with all her flying experience – she’s been at it since she was a small child – it’s very safe.  Most seem a bit skeptical of the offer, but Moomin quickly accepts the invitation with enthusiasm.

Maev gets the broom into position, straddling it towards the front, leaving plenty of room for Moomin to mount the magic cleaning tool behind her.  Once he does, she turns to face forward.  “Now, hold onto me.  Since it’s your first time flying, we’ll start slow and we won’t be going too far.  Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the ride.”

Once paws are around her waist, the broom starts to rise.  Moomin is clearly excited as they begin to move slowly over the edge of the cliff their friends stand on.  Slow goes it, gently picking up speed to a comfortable flying pace over the valley.  Maev checks back with her passenger that she’s not going too fast for him.  She doesn’t fly nearly as fast as she does by herself, but it’s very fun all the same with Moomintroll laughing excitedly behind her.  He’s ecstatic about the whole thing, being able to see the valley from above and right under his feet!  It’s like a dream.  This must be what magic feels like, or so he thinks.  He points out people’s homes as he notices them, making Maev think of the ride as something of a flying tour of the valley.

His turn ends all too soon in his opinion.  The moment his feet touch the grass of the cliff, he can’t help but wonder when he’ll get to do that again.  As soon as he’s off the broom, Little My leaps up to sit in front of Maev on the broomstick.  The witch laughs at her antics, readying herself for takeoff once again.  She follows the same process that she did with Moomin, but a little slower.  If she goes too fast, the tiny creature sitting in front of her may fly away with the wind!

Once they’re in the air, though, the small Mymble stands on the broom.  Maev knows she should be worried, but Little My’s stance is proper, her balance is fine.  She’ll have to keep a close eye and be wary of her turns.  Besides, something about Little My screams to her that she wouldn’t take Maev’s worry too seriously.  She can’t help but to laugh.  “You’re practically a pro at this, My.”

Once they descend, though, she gets serious.  “Even still, I don’t recommend jumping up like that midflight.  If you’re going to stand on the broom, do so before you get in the air or the wind may take off with you

“Alright, I’ll remember that.”  Little My says as she jumps off the broom.  “Are you going next, Sniff?”  The tall brown creature cowers immediately, trembling all over as he shakes his head no.  “Well, why not?  It’s perfectly safe.  I’ve never seen a safer flier than Maev.”

“You’ve never seen any other fliers before her, either!  I’d much rather stay on the ground.”  Sniff responds, taking a few steps back.  Maev can’t help but feel relieved…  Still, she’s sure to add that nobody has to get on the broom if they really don’t want to.  She would never force somebody to fly.

Snork Maiden takes a tentative step forward.  The witch notices this, turning her attention to her.  She motions to the back of the broom with a smile.  “Would you like a turn, Snork Maiden?”

The Snork Maiden takes her place behind Maev, holding onto her waist as Moomin had done before.  As she seems to be more nervous than the previous two, Maev checks that she’s ready before they begin their slow ascension.  She holds on to the witch’s waist very tightly at first, eyes screwed shut, bracing for some harsh winds or violent jerking.

But none of that came.  She only feels gentle winds on her face, tousling her blonde fringe.  Her color changes from one of fear to a delighted pink.  Her grip loosens, and Maev sighs in relief.  It had been quite painful, but she wasn’t about to berate a first-time flier for being scared.  She had done the same to her mother when she first rode a broom with her, but she was much smaller then and could do no harm with her grip.

Snork Maiden looks around in awe at the clouds around them, how close the sky seems to be although it is always out of reach.  She doesn’t realize how far out they’ve gone until she looks in the direction of the cliff to see Snufkin, Moomin, and Little My standing near the edge and waving.  She waves back jovially.

The landing goes much smoother than their take off.  Snork Maiden rambles romanticized nonsense about being a witch and how lovely it must be.  She can now only dream of being able to fly every day wherever one wants, and that’s one thing Maev can agree with being delightful.  Overall, though, she opts to not ruin her fun with the reality.  A reality which, if all goes well, may be changing for her.  Maybe the wardrobe restrictions won’t change, but with how open and accepting these folks of the valley she’s met are, she’s sure the loneliness she’s been plagued with for most of her life will change.

She looks to the last of her friends, motioning to her broom once more.  “Care for a try, Snufkin?”

Snufkin doesn’t take much time to think it over before politely declining.  With that, Maev hops off of her broom.  As mentioned, she would never force somebody to fly with her.  “Suit yourself,” she says with a smile.  The response is given in good nature, and the smile is returned.

The journey back down the mountain doesn’t seem to take nearly as long as the journey up did.  Nobody but Maev seems to take notice, though, so she keeps the thought to herself.  Maybe ignorance to such a thing comes with doing it often.  Maybe she’ll get used to it, too, someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maev has an ask and RP blog on Tumblr now! Have a question for the young witch? Ask her here: https://witchs-garden.tumblr.com/


	7. Moonlit Walks

Nights in early July are usually decently cool.  Summer air mixed with the lingering remnants of the cool spring.  It makes Maev’s lining up jars of water in the beams of the little moonlight the crescent moon provides pleasant.  In a few weeks, the humidity will start rolling in as the area finally settles into summer, the nights will be a little less enjoyable then, so she’s going to take this opportunity to go for a long night walk once she’s done.

She checks over the jars and their placements, making sure none of them will fall during the night.  Afterward, she starts down the lightly trodden path outside of her garden – it’s become more prominent since Snufkin started coming by, and now the others walk it on their mushroom searches to say hello.  Barnabus is tucked safely in her bag, insisting he wanted to go, too.  She plans to head to the glowing path she found about a month ago.  The one lined in glowing fungi and dancing fireflies, where the forest’s night music plays loudest.

She’s stopped, however, by a voice calling out to her.  She stops abruptly, giving no tell that she was about to stray from the path into the thick of the woods.  Instead, she turns around to smile at the familiar figure.  The moon gives off very little light this night, and what light it does give is broken and scattered by the trees above them, but Snufkin has a very unique silhouette and voice.

“Good evening, Snufkin.”  She greets with a smile.  The moonlight reflects in his eyes as he gets closer much like Barnabus’ do.  It sends a slight chill up her spine.

“What brings you out this way?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually walk outside of our hikes before, much less at night.”

“I didn’t know you walked this area so often,”  Maev responds pleasantly.  Snufkin explains he doesn’t always, but since he discovered the path he does like to take it on nights he wants a long nighttime walk alone.  “I see.  I was just taking a walk myself after putting some water out to charge.  Mother says the waxing phases are best if you can’t wait until the full moon.”

There’s a short silence between them, and Maev wonders if Snufkin’s craft has any need of moon water.  She still doesn’t know what kind of witch he is…  Barnabus breaks the silence with a loud croak, causing Maev to jump.  He suggests Maev take Snufkin with her to the glowing field, but she shakes her head.  She can’t do that.  For now, it’s going to remain her secret.

“Were… you heading towards the river?  That’s where we were heading.  I thought the moonlight might be beautiful reflecting off of it despite how little light there is right now.”  Snufkin nods.  He was just on his way back to his camp for the night before he ran into her.  “Do you mind if we join you, then?”

It’s not a very long walk from where they are to the river, and he doubts Maev will continue to walk upstream with him once they get to the riverbank.  “I don’t mind at all.”

They spend a short while walking in silence, listening to the sounds of the night.  All the while, Maev keeps her gaze up, getting as many looks at the moon through the trees as she can.

            “You like the moon, I take it.”  Snufkin says, this being the first time he’s taken the liberty to start the conversation.  Maev gives a quick nod.  “Is it very important for your practices?”

            “It can be,” Maev starts.  “Mother taught me a lot of things that focus on it.  A lot to do with the moon water.  Certain teas, some baths, eventually water scrying when I finally get to learn that.  Anything that calls for water, moon water can be used for.  And there are some rituals that take place during certain moon phases…”  She pauses, looking up again.  “But, overall… I just think she’s beautiful.  There’s no magic to that.  I’ve always admired her.”

            “I’ve always loved the night sky, too.  I especially love the stars.  I find it’s actually difficult to feel completely alone most nights when they’re blinking down at me on clear nights.”

            Maev had never thought of it that way.  The stars, the moon… they very well could be watching over them all, couldn’t they be?  Her craft never focused much on the stars, so she never thought much of them other than that they’re pretty.  She never thought about them with such importance as Snufkin does.

            She talks about how the stars were never talked about much in her family.  Not even the sun is quite as important as the moon is to them.  Snufkin almost seems saddened at that.  “Maybe, one of these days, you can teach me about them?”

            Snufkin blinks at her, “The stars?”

            “Yes.  I would love to learn about them.  I already know everything there is to know about the moon.  I know her phases, how to chart her cycle every year, I know the names of all the full moons and lunar phenomena…  I think I would like to learn some things about the stars, too.”

            Maev’s eyes gleam happily up at the night sky, seeing the stars in a much different light already.  They twinkle down at them from around the pale moon and what few clouds float lazily by.  She brings her eyes back over to the sliver of moon.  The night sky is in full view now.  She hadn’t even noticed they exited the woods already.

            “I’ve got it!”  an idea strikes her, and she’s quick to tell.  “On the sixteenth, just a little more than a week from now, there will be a partial lunar eclipse.  If you like, we can gather everyone together to watch it.”

            Snufkin remains silent for a moment, staring up at the sky himself.  “A lunar eclipse, you say?”  He glances over to Maev in time to see her nodding enthusiastically.  “I’ve never watched one in the company of others before.”

            The witch decides to remain silent as her friend finds his words.

            “My first lunar eclipse was quite an experience, I suppose.”  He gives a hollow laugh, “I had never encountered one before, or if I had I was asleep in my tent when it happened.  I don’t remember exactly what I thought was happening; whether I thought the moon was being eaten or dying.  I do know I was horrified.  I was… scared.  I couldn’t imagine a night sky without her in it.”  His tone gradually gets sullener as he talks.  This is something he hadn’t told anyone else yet, but surely a fellow moon lover would understand.  “How lonely would the nights feel without her lighting them?  No more moonlit hikes or swims…  I was relieved when she came back, but also confused.”

            A loud croak interrupts, drawing the Mumrik’s attention from the night sky to the bag resting against Maev’s hip.  The witch scoffs as what Barnabus says and shakes her head.

            “It’s not embarrassing in the slightest, Barnabus.  Don’t be rude.”  Snufkin begins to second guess his telling the story.  “I thought the same during my first lunar eclipse.”

            Snufkin brings his gaze up to Maev as she continues.  “I was devastated.  I tried to wake up the family, but I was only able to wake my grandfather.  He sat outside with me and explained what was happening.  He told me that a shadow was just being cast over the moon, she wasn’t dying.  He watched the whole thing with me.”  She pauses to take a shaky breath.  “I had someone to explain it all to me.  It must have been scary, watching something so awesome by yourself.”

            Long pauses in conversation seem to be common when talking to Snufkin, but Maev doesn’t mind so much anymore.  The flowing of the river distracts from the lack of conversation, giving nice background noise to the songs of the frogs, crickets, and nocturnal birds.  A pleasant breeze rustles the trees now and again, too.

            She’s about to bid her friend good night and go home when he speaks up, and she couldn’t be happier when he does.

            “I’ll tell everyone that we’re going stargazing on the sixteenth.  I know they’ll be thrilled about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sketches of Maev can be found here: https://nikkistrations2-point-0.tumblr.com/post/184856991373/tumblr-let-me-post-the-gorl-did-i-create-a-moomin


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